


play that song again, 'cause we were in love

by Piyo13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Background Victuuri - Freeform, M/M, and then phichit joined in and also i love phichimetti, brought on by my deep need for pining!chris, the ending is happy-ish though?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9853361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piyo13/pseuds/Piyo13
Summary: “Of course you are,” Chris replies smoothly. “We’re their best friends and their best men, and look at them. It’d be a crime not to be happy for them.”Phichit raises his eyebrows at the change in person. “So,” he says. “Like recognizes like?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry. they're my faves, that means that have to suffer. 
> 
> [mood/title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnexkG4RrtA)

They’re several songs into the dancing when Phichit bows off the dance floor and retreats to a table, only stopping by the open bar to pick up another glass of champagne.

He sits down and sips daintily. It’s either his fifth or his sixth, but Phichit’s never been a particularly emotional drunk and besides, it’s his best friend’s wedding. He’s allowed to cut himself some slack.

He’s in the middle of taking a series of hilarious, blackmail-worthy photos of Victor and Yuuri’s drunken dance floor acrobatics when he hears the chair next to him slide out.

Chris greets him with a happy smile and a raised glass. “To our ridiculous, besotted newlyweds,” he says.

Phichit raises his glass in turn, and then bottoms it out. He stares forlornly at the empty flute for a few seconds, internally debating whether the bar is too far to bother for another, or if he could just bring a few back with him next time and save himself any future trips.

“You loved him once, didn’t you.” It’s not a question, and when Phichit looks over at Chris, surprised, Chris is looking out at Yuuri and Victor. Serene, content, but also a little sad. He catches Phichit staring, and turns a bit, raising an eyebrow at Phichit.

Knowing, but not judging.

Phichit could desperately use some more champagne right now. As if sensing his need, Chris drains the rest of his glass and stands up. “More?” he asks.

Phichit nods mutely. Chris nods in return, and leaves, and when he comes back it’s with two new flutes, filled to the brim. He hands one to Phichit.

“I’m happy for them,” Phichit says, eyes fixed on the bubbles as they rise through his drink, his tone carefully modulated.

“Of course you are,” Chris replies smoothly. “We’re their best friends and their best men, and look at them." He gestures out, and Phichit follows the motion of his hand. Victor and Yuuri are giggling at each other as they dance, their faces flushed—and despite their obvious intoxication, they are in time with the beat and completely in tune with each other, practically drift compatible if Phichit's ever seen it. He is, in a detached sort of way, jealous of the synchrony they have. "It’d be a crime not to be happy for them.”

Phichit notes the change of person as his mind catches up to what Chris is saying, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing Chris.

“So,” he says. “Like recognizes like?”

Chris just gives him a sad, wry smile, and takes a further sip of his champagne.

They’ve gotten to know each other well over the course of helping Yuuri and Victor plan and execute their wedding. Phichit would number Chris among his best friends. So thinking back, Phichit realizes this probably shouldn’t be much of a revelation. He nods, whether to himself or to Chris, he’s not really sure.

“Would I have married Yuuri in a heartbeat a year ago? Yes, absolutely. Even a few months ago, actually. But also… not. And definitely not anymore, because—because—look at him. He’s so happy now, so in love, and—they deserve each other." Phichit swirls his champagne. "They really do.”

“Mm,” Chris says, a full-stop agreement. “They make each other be the best they can be.”

“Yeah. Exactly that. It's that kind of relationship…” Phichit trails off. How to explain…?

"It's the kind of relationship we all dream about as children," Chris finishes. Phichit tips his glass at him.

"Exactly. And. I really _am_ happy for him, for them, you know?"

Chris nods repeatedly, probably more times than strictly warranted. Phichit decides Chris has probably also had a glass or three too many.

"Me too," Chris says. "I'm—over it." There's a mutter that might be 'mostly', but Phichit can't make it out clearly over the music. Then Chris forges on. "And I'm really happy for them. I'm glad they met. Victor deserves someone who makes him as happy as Yuuri does; and vice versa, I'm sure."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, until their glasses are once again empty. Phichit takes a very aesthetic photo, his glass with the few lingering drops in sharp focus, and the lights and dancers blurred in the background. He goes to post it, but can't think of a good caption, and ends up just saving it as a draft.

In retrospect, it was probably one drink too much—his head's spinning just a little bit, and the world seems just that much more vibrant and loud, and the beat of the music is finding its way into his veins when Chris sets his empty glass down with a sense of finality.

“Alright, well, that was depressing and totally unsexy, let’s never talk about this again,” he says, staring out at the floor. Then he stands up and extends a hand to Phichit. “Might I have this dance?” he asks, shimmying his hips with a smirk.

The music is completely wrong for the gesture and for Chris’ tone, and Phichit laughs, but gives Chris his hand anyways. Chris kisses it with a wink, and then Phichit finds himself whisked off to the dance floor with a twirl.

They dance a passionate tango to whatever pop music Otabek’s got playing, waltz to a frankly atrocious dubstep piece, and proceed to grind filthily to what was probably supposed to be a romantic classical bit, but Chris is planting kisses on Phichit's neck in time with the slow violin, and by now Phichit's less drunk and more pleasantly buzzed, and if they're making a bit of a scene—well, it's not like the newlyweds themselves aren't doing worse. They're having fun, it's scandalous, and Chris seems to actively enjoy the number of selfies Phichit’s taking, joining in on almost every one.

By the end of the night, they’ve both lost their jackets and their ties, and Phichit thinks things might not be all bad. Yes, the subject of his years-long crush is happily married to someone else, but it’s high time Phichit got over that, anyways. And if Chris—who is now shirtless, Phichit notes, very loudly, very appreciatively—is giving him bedroom eyes, well.

They’re friends, he’s handsome, and they both know where they’re coming from.

Phichit could do worse.

(But maybe tomorrow. Phichit's brain feels a bit too fuzzy for anything but sleep right now, and Chris actually falls asleep twice on the elevator ride up to their room. They tumble into bed with no disregard for wrinkly clothing, and pass out, Phichit curled up to Chris' chest, within minutes.

The next morning, they both wear sunglasses to an incredibly (and universally) hungover breakfast, which makes for a great selfie.

Phichit decides he's happy.)

**Author's Note:**

> [come yell at me about phichimetti on tumblr](http://piyo-13.tumblr.com) (no seriously, i need saving from rarepair hell)


End file.
